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'vie Ex/^

-OF THE-

nCHDIHNS

Peparture of the Acadians.

THE PEOPLE"<^

Congfellow's Gi?ang€lin€.^

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REMOVING THE ACADIANS.

f^r

THE EXILE

OF THE

ACADIANS,

THE PEOPLE OF

Longfellow's ''Evangeline."

-BY-

Mde. Morel de La Durantaye

TOLEDO, O.:

THE B. P. WADE CO , PRINTERS
1888.

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©HE-*-flGADIANS+

AND THEIR FATE.

|F the many who have read Longfellow's Evangeline
with unbounded delight, how few there are who
low that the plaintive, poetic story of Acadia, is but a
[cture of a real people, illustrating their simple mode of
and their multiple misfortunes. Yet our Nova Scotia
lee bore that romantic name, and her people were the
[cadians of history, romance and song.

The story carries us back to that long ago, when, from

IB frozen sea to the tropical gulf, this vast country was

nearly unknown wilderness, its monotony being undis-

irbed save by a few English colonies on the Atlantic

lore of what is now the United States, and like settlements

)y the French in Canada, each claiming by assumed right

[hat which belonged to neither, and each fiercely jealous of

[he acquirements of the other.

Thus, the two most powerful nations of Europe sought
Extension of dominion and addition of wealth, while colon-
ists, from various quarters and of all classes, endeavored to
[mprove their condition by casting their fortunes in the
rilds of the •* new world.*'

The experience of all these early pioneers was usually
)itiful in the extreme, it not infrequently happening that

they fell victims to cold, starvation and disease, to the hostility
of neighboring adventurers or to the tomahawk of the
savage, to be finally either entirely destroyed or as a tat-
tered remnant return to their old tiue homes.

Among those who so early as 1604 cast their lot in
the western wilderness was a body of French people from
Normandy, who chanced to fix their new homes in Acadia,
the peninsula now known as Nova Scotia. This effort
proved a failure, especially because of the inroads of
settlers from the English colonies of Virginia, who claimed
the peninsula by right of discovery, and whose people, led
by a freebooter, in the end utterly destroyed the colony.

The French government had given the rugged realm
its tropical name, but in the turmoil of the nations, the Eng-
lish obtained possession, and in 1621, with greater fitness,
pronounced it to be Nova Scotia or New Scotland. But
neither tropical nor frigid designation brought settled
quietude to its borders. It became the shuttlecock of war
and diplomacy. In due time the French became its master,
to be overcome by their persistent enemy in 1654. Thirteen
years later the French were in power, fickle fortune returning
it to the English in 1714 Thus, experience had shown little
certainty of tenure, and that the imperious Englishmen so
deemed it is amply shown in the fact that the treaty by
which it was secured to them contained the galling proviso
that their new subjects, the Acadians or French citizens of
Nova Scotia, might enjoy freedom of worship, they being
Catholics while the English government was intensely
Protestant, and still more, they were granted immunity
from bearing arms, being thus permitted to enjoy the bene-
fits of a government, and be by it protected, without rais-
ing a hand even in their own defense. This unprecedented
favor may have partly risen from the fact that joining the

Jnglish forces they would be brought face to face with her
jreditary foe, and thus be compelled to. do battle against
ir^onai friends and relatives; but odious as this tacit
[tizenship must have been to the haughty English govern-
ient, it must be stated in justice to it that the treaty
(edge was faithfully kept.

It seems passing strange that the well-known vicis-
tudes and turmoil did not make a bar to immigration.
|ut it did not do so. During each period in which France
}ld the land, her people, with consummate pertinacity,
lught homes in Acadia; the English with equal blindness,
[urrying to their new Scotland during the time of their
)ssession.

This seems all the more wonderful when the fact is

jcalled, that the varied changes in mastery so briefly

)ted, were always the results of harassing and bloody

fruggles, participated in by both French and English

jgular troops, the militia or citizen soldiers of both sides, in

rery case each party being aided by the blood-thirsty

ivages, who spared neither age or sex, and in whose hands

L mediate death was usually a desired blessing. The cheek

[Iternately pales with anger and blushes with shame, as we

[eview the true history of the part taken by either party in

jhese fierce contests for empire, contests that excited the

feepest concern in th^ great capitals and courts of Europe,

iree thousand miles away.

The Acadian people, not only brought with them the

labits of the Norman peasant, but adhered to their pecu-

^rities with unyielding tenacity. In consequence of this,

ley became noted for simplicity of habits, for patient

[nd persistent toil trom which followed remarkable thrift ;

)r devotion to the religion of their fathers, ardent attach-

lent to their fatherland and an unlimited devotion to their

^sm

new homes. Totally void of those ambitious aims that
fires the hearts of other peoples, they sought nothing beyond
their little land possessions, and luxuriated in the comforts
found in their unostentatious habitations. Every impulse
of their hearts centered there, no toil was too severe, if it
but tended to increase their stock and store. The soil ol
the low grounds being most fertile, they built dikes, by
which the waters were forced back, thus converting marshes /i
into reclaimed fields where the cereals grew in abundance,
while thousands of every variety of cattle grazed on the
adjacent plains. Indulging in none of the vanities that
corrodes and impoverishes more pretentious conimunities,
frugality reigned everywhere supreme. Without education,
and relying on the "cure" for instruction and guidance in
all essential things, they kept aloof from others, desiring
most to be by the boisterous world forgotten Absence oi
ambitious aims circumscribed their wants and rendered
possible the existence of such typical band of broth '^,
asking only to be permitted to enjoy their toil, their content
ment, neighbors and religion.

It would seem that these meager favors were their due
and should have been accorded them, but instead they
were the shuttlecocks of the grim contestants for power and
empire. Long weary years of contention with repeated
change of ruling powers had at last brought the treaty ol
1713 before referred to, apparently bringing with it the
long desired repose.

Under the English regime, in accordance with the
terms of this compact, nearly half a century had passed,
the Acadians being nominally English subjects, but cling-
ing with the keenest ardor to old memories, bound in every
heart sympathy to those who spoke their native tongue,
and who in every way were to them most near and agree-

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aims that
ng beyond
e comforts
ry impulse
evere, if it
The soil oi
dikes, by
Qg marshes /I
bundance,
ed OD the
nities that
mmunities,
education,
uidance in
rs, desiring
Absence ol
i rendered
i brctli' 1^,
eir content

■e their due
istead thev
power and
h repeated
\e treaty oi
?^ith it the

e with the
ad passed,
but cling-
id in every
re tongue,
and agree*

le. In every sense their rulers were to them foreign, the
le engrafted on their land cold and cheerless, their
iams revels in Acadia.

Thus the embers of unrest were ever warm in their

3oras, and calm and well disposed as they were, required

|t little effort to fan it to a brighter glow. To the interior

inadian colonies, conditions were ever present promoting

(active effort. Nova Scotia, now an English province,

jupied a position on their eastern borders that very largely

terfered with their acccess to the ocean, which was not

|ly the highway of trade, but the only one through which

By could maintain connection with France. Fierce tribes

Indians, ardently attached to the interests of the Cana-

m colonies, occupied adjacent land- and secret emissaries

;re ever busy fomenting acrimonirs in the hearts of both

|e gentle souled Acadians and * leir ueighbors, the brutal

fies

To the English, the accordeii iieutral citizenship was
[tremely distasteful, and when to this was added the
irest wrought by the emis?aries of France, it became
lious. They were further both vexed and alarmed by the
Section of a French fort immediately over tiie line. This
fas situated at Beausejours and adjacent to the district of
[ines, on a narrow isthmus connecting Novia Scotia with
le mainland of Canada and seemed significant, as the
^asin of Mineb was the most populous and wealthiest of the
Lcadian settlements. Whatever the real purpose may
lave been, the fort and its occupancy by the French troops
jas a perpetual menace to the rulers of the province.

The tempest was slowly but surely gathering. But

irough all the perplexing situations the Acadian people

Jept as much aloof from participation as was possible for

lem to do. Their purpose and intent was to remain true

to their obligations as neutrals, but being flesh and blood]
and the continued prey of those who by secret persuasioij
and every possible device, sought to lead them to sorai
measure that would result to the advantage of the Cana;
dian provinces, and through this means to the governmen
of France, what could be expected as the result. With
all this they so greaily preferred to till the soil, tend thei:
herds, and live in quietude, that with far fewer exception w|
than could be expectt?d they persisted in pursuing their
pastoral career. tl

At last the tempest bad gathered its forces; a cloud oi
ill-omen overcast the sky. The drama of turmoil, of battle, tl
of unrest and changing rulers, was about to terminate h
tragedy. The innocents were again to suffer ; the only ones
that could be by any means accounted guiltless, were to h
made the victims of an act that thrills every sensibility oi
the human heart o|

The American colonies were in fact a part of England II
and represented her interests, in precisely the same senst
that the Canadian colonies represented their home govern-
ment. \

Through the instrumentality of the former, an expedi
tion was fitted out in 1755 to reduce the fort at Beausejours,
the ultimate object being to destroy French influence in
Nova Scotia, thus making it practically and really an Eng-
lish province like themselves. The fleet sailed from Boston
harbor, and on arrival near their destination were joined by
a force of British regulars under Col. Monctoii, who took
command of the whole. The negotiations with the English
government and preparation of the expedition had been
conducted with so much care that the occupants of the for-
tress were surprised at the appearance of the enemy. Their
consternation quickly extended to the Acadians who, with

[inctive French predilections, required only a threat from

commandant of the French forces to lead many to cast

ir fortunes with them. Not knowing what was really

)lved, believing their all to be in peril at the hands of

jtical freebooters, they accepted the only apparent

{nee for self-preservation. Rendered desperate by the

)my outlook, some 300 joined the troops in the fort,

|le many, being undecided to the last moment what was

to do, finally hid their families in the woods and fought

invader from any cover they could find. Heroic but

taken purpose, idle effort; the hand of fate was upon

they struggled against destiny.
The fort surrendered after feeble resistance, and the
juided Acadians were at the mercy of the English who,
^ing granted them neutrality, now found them traitors.
With mock generosity they were pardoned this grave
ise, but there awaited them a doom no less grievous,
at this doom that every sentiment of humanity and
imon decency revolts, stamping the perpetrators as men
rthy the brand of Cain. No claim of precedent, no
of national policy, can be made to hide the infamy of
it at which the hearts of all good men revolt. Precedent
^s not palliate wanton torture, physical or mental, more
in it excuses the savage for burning his victim at the
[ke. The course pursued had not even the manly quality
fair, open dealing, but consisted in a series of schemes, in
iry one of which a trap was secreted, to the end that
rn which way they might, the intended victims must come
[last to the same condition. The purpose was perfectly
Iden until the fatal line was passed.

Having been forgiven for joining hands with the enemy
[the recent contest at the fort of Beausejours, their hearts
re sufficiently softened by the unexpected clemency, to

respond promptly through their representatives that they
were willing tf) take the oath of allegiance to the British
crown, a summons having been issued to them to determine
the matter as to their willingness. These representatives
were however astounded when infoimed that the old time
treaty proviso granting them immunity from bearing arms,
and especial religious privileges could no longer be tolerated
and would not be permitted. The oath must now be taken
in full without proviso or reservation as an evidence of com-
plete abandonment of any former allegiance. This meas-
ure was wholly unexpected and to them shocking to the
last degree. The agents could not at once answer for their
constituency, in fact could do no less than to go back to
them for instruction in a matter so vital to their interests.
When they returned for further consultation, the trap set
at that point was sprung, it was pronounced too late.
Accepting the delay as an evidence of unwillingness and
incincerity, the oath could not now be taken at all or in
any form, and the suppliants were their government's out-
casts Thus step by step the cords were being drawn closer,
there having from the beginning no intended method of
escape.

Wandering blindly in a desert of doubt, the peasants
went on with their harvest labor, without a dream of calam-
ity greater than had so often befallen them, that with it
they were familiar as with the face of an old time friend.
It was just as well, as neither negligence nor diligence
could change their predetermined doom.

The further development and execution of the diabol-
ical plot required great care and secrecy, from fear of a
revolt, to quell which would result in slaughter in addition
to infamy. Only such delay occurred as was unavoidable.
While the husbandmen were occupied at their labors, the

commanding officer was busy perfecting every detail, and
issuing the orders of the ** Provincial Governor" who rep-
resented the British Crown, to his military subordinates,
detailing their duty at each of the several French or Aca-
dian settlements. Of these there were several, each one a
little world within itself

These officers, with requisite troops, repairing to the
station assigned them, in conformity with their instructions,
each issued an order directing, under penalty, that "all old
men, young men, and lads of ten years of age," should
meet at a place designated, on September 5th, 1755, to hear
read a command of the Governor of the province.

On its face this notice was entirely innocent; and in
some places was fully and in others not wholly complied
with. Possibly some might have noticed that on that morn-
ing extraordinary military precautions had been very quietly
taken, the strictest discipline observed, and the troops sup-
plied with powder and ball. There could have been noth-
ing beyond a suspicion, as the dread secret was unknown,
save to a few trusty officers who were sworn to absolute
silence and secrecy.

Grand Pre was a populous and thrifty village, sur-
rounded by charming farms, with fields well tilled and barns
overflowing from the recent harvest. A description of
what transpired there will suffice for all, as the type was the
same, and like agonies wrought everywhere. Col. Wins-
low, of Massachusetts, was assigned to duty in that district,
and to the credit of his heart be it said, shrank from its per-
formance with expressed disgust for being made the instru-
ment of unwanted cruelty, but imperative orders forced
him to obedience.

In compliance with official notice, **the old men, young
men, and boys of ten years" gathered in the village church

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at the appointed time. Few failed to obey the mandate,
as suspicion was disarmed among them, and the orders of
the Governor were of vital importance. Seated in their
places in respectful and painful expectation, they did not
notice that the soldiers were quietly surrounding the build-
ing.

This done, the ranking officer in full uniform, repre-
senting his imperial majesty of Great Britain, after some
preliminaries, read the fatal orders, which were nothing less
than that their property was confiscated to the Crown, that
all were to be removed fiom the province, leaving behind
everything save such personal eflPects as could conveniently
be carried with them, and that after the moment of the
reading, they were prisoners, and with their families doomed
to perpetual exile. The ax had fallen at Grand Pre, but
not with like success at some of the settlements, especially
that of Beau Basin and Annapolis, where suspicions had by
some means been aroused, and only a portion reported as
ordered. The recusants, fleeing from the horror they
faintly imagined, hid with their families in the woods, hop-
ing against fate for something better than their fears had
painted.

This awful communication, coming like a thunderbolt,
so appalled the prisoners that they doubted what they heard,
but all became too plain for doubt when they saw the stern
sentry at the doors and beyond them the guard under arms.
Then their strong hearts bowed under the weight of wretch-
edness. Instantly passed before them as in a panorama,
their homes, their families, and every sacred associated tie
suddenly wrenched from them ; their fertile fields and well
filled barns, their herds graijing on the plains, to them
blotted out forever. Anguish rent every heart ; they were
worse than free outcasts on the face of the earth.

Their families knew nothing of what had transpired,
until the expected did not return, when inquiry caught the
rumor, and, like the hot and suffocating simoon, the revolt-
ing fact spread abroad. Then arose shrieks of agony and
lamentation in every home. In frenzy women and children
rushed along the streets, wringing their hands in despair.
It was the wailing of helpless women for absent loved ones
and for crushed hopes in every form — everything near and
dear seemed to have been gathered by the hand of death,
and amid desolation, lay coffined before them.

The picture with all its ghastly seeming was all too
real, for means of escape there were none. Lamentations
were powerless for relief, shrieks of agony could be answered
only by kindred shrieks, while mothers pressed to their
breasts babes that like themselves were pinioned to the
wheel.

The early imprisonment may be regarded in the light
of a precaution to prevent disorder, which, through some
mischance might have resulted from delay and arousing of
suspicion. At least it was otherwise premature, as there
were not at command a sufficient number of vessels to trans-
port the members of the colony which necessitated painful
delay. Near the shore at Grand Pre lay five vessels on
which it was decided to place the prisoners as a means of
security. The 10th of September was fixed upon as the
day on which the male captives would be placed on board
to be there guarded while awaiting sufficient transportation.

Five long weary days passed by, doubt and hope alter-
nating m the breasts of the imprisoned, and their families
still in their homes. Would the captors carry away fathers,
husbands, sons and brothers? Limited numbers, under
careful guard, had each day been allowed to visit their fam-
ilies ; would this blessed favor be taken away, were ques-

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tions continually asked and ever answered by a hopeless
moan.

Each circling sun sternly reduced the hours of stay,
and when on the designated morn, its light set all their
beautiful land in glory before them, the drums were
resounding in the village streets. At eisrht o'clock the
church bell tolled into the desolate hearts that the fatal
hour had come.

The melancholy column was formed and 260 young
men, in the advance, ordered to march on ship-board. The
pride and strength of their manly hearts forbade obedience.
They asked only for their families in company With
them they could bow to the yoke, but to leave them they
would not. This could not be, and while drums resounded
the soldiery advanced with fixed bayonets. Appeals were
vain, to resist with empty hands utterly hopeless. A few
were wounded, when in despair the march began.

From the church to the shore, the way was lined with
women and children, mothers, wives, babes, those who
tottered from age, and those whose cheeks were pallid with
the touch of death. Neither pen nor pencil can picture a
heart agony, nor can they portray the fierce sorrows of
those who knelt by the way, greeting the prisoners with
blessings, tears and lamentations, as they bade, as they yet
fully believed, a final adieu. Trembling hand clasped
hand that trembled, fathers for a moment only pressed their
lips to those of wife and child as they moved on under the
eyes of the stern guards, who dare not even if they wished
brook the least delay. Thus all moved quickly along the
melancholy path until none were left but those who
mourned, and when from the vessel decks the imprisoned
looked ashore, there stood their loved ones gazing through
blinding tears to catch even a faint glimpse of those so

cruelly wrenched from them. Riveted to the spot, the
desolate women and children wrung their hands and wept
until *' tired nature" and the gloom of nightfall forced
them to seek protection in their homes.

One act in this infamous drama had been completed,
an act that brought shame into the English hearts, who
under orders were compelled to its execution.

There is a form of mercy in the ending of torture,
but even this trifling boon was not tor the unfortunate
Acadians, for through long weeks of waiting for additional
transports and supplies they lay in full view of their lost
treasures.

Horrified beyond measure, utterly powerless, incapable
of thinking this cold inhumanity could be more than
temporary, the women felt that the persecutors must relent ;
that the iron heart would soften, the relentless hand loose
its hold and the imprisoned be returned to them. Soothed
with this "forlorn hope," they turned their attention to
their varied duties, each day, by permission, carrying food
from their tables to those on board the ships.

But the end was not yet. The event of September
10th was that of separation ; that which was to follow was
one of union, but not at the family fireside.

Again the drums beat, troops paraded under arms,
and dividing into squads, proceeded to the performance of
the last act of the cruel tragedy. The labor of the house-
wife, the play of Acadian children in Acadia, was ended.
For the last time had been heard there their lullaby, for
the last time the prattle of their babes. The order was im-
perative, the fatal hour of embarkation had arrived,
mothers, wives and children must now join their imprisoned
friends, not definitely as families, but as chance might
determine. With this awful reality, the last hope was

■: ]'\

i. .
I < I

I »

crushed and horror thrilled every heart. In bewildering
grief and terror, almost unconscious of what they did,
some prized treasures were gathered together. Still reluc-
tant to go, the soldiery were compelled to force their depar-
ture, and amid tears hot with agony, mothers carried their
children, friends bore the aged and infirm in meloncholy
procession to the boats that were to bear them to the vessels
awaiting them near the shore. At each of the villages the
same blood chilling scenes were enacted, and then fire
swept away homes, churches and harvests before their eyes.
Flames burst through windows, crept over roofs, houses
and barns melted like wax, while each stack of grain
became a huge cone of smoke, streaked with fire, until
nothing remained but a cloud that hung like a pall above
the cinders that smouldered beneath. The exiles could
only gaze, wring their powerless hands and weep.

In every locality the effort at capture had been well
planned, and was executed thoroughly, both at the time of
reading the order and afterward ; the search for those who
failed to come being pushed with earnest diligence. Still
thpre were some who, with their families, escaped to the
woods. In the utmost fright and destitution they hid them
as best they could, to bide the developments of time. No
opportunity for counter effort was discovered by them save
at Chipody, where, from their hiding places, they saw the
flames bursting simultaneously from their houses, barns and
churches. Instantly their blood became heated beyond
endurance. Guided by anger, and thirsting for revenge,
they hastily hid their wives and children more securely, and
lew as they were, threw themselves unexpectedly on the
enemy, who, broken by the furious attack, hastened to
their ships, leaving forty-five dead and wounded on the
field.

Whichever way they turned, the fate of these fugitives
could be nothing less than deplorable to the utmost extreme.
Their English persecutors were unrelenting and sought
them out in the most unfrequented places. Those that, by
dint of watchfulness, suffering and dubious good fortune
escaped, either hid in rocky caverns, fens, or marshes,
subsisting by fishing and kindred methods, or joined their
comrades who had united with the French before the
battle at the fort, and shared with them their flinty destiny.
Others found refuge in the wigwams of their savage friends,
or wandered to adjacent islands within the French borders,
still hovering near their lost treasures. Detached groups
found their way into the interior of the Canadian settle-
ments, to receive such care as is meted out to the impover-
ished and disconsolate. Through some chance, a group of
these people fixed their habitations on the Madawaska,
where, having passed through indescribable privations, they
gradually developed comforts, which, in time, ripened into
prosperity and happiness, and there, at this dav, may be
found an untarnished type of the Acadian people.

Little bands found resting places within the provincial
borders, at points remote from English settlements, their
security consisting in their poverty and the unfrequented
locality of their homes.

In 1763 the iron grip of the British hand slightly
yielded its grasp, permission being then granted to the expa-
triated to return and establish themselves in Digby County,
Township Clare, a rough and jagged place on the southwest
shore of St. Marys bay, remote from all habitation and ac-
cessible only from the sea through a narrow and rock-
bound inlet. A few promptly availed themselves of this
meagre indulgence. Long deprivation and suffering seemed
to have softened their memory of wrongs and lent energy

ij < I

( til

to their efforts. Labor for themselves had in it such pleas-
urable quality that soon the rough lands were made to yield
their treasures, which, with ample facilities for fishing, ena-
bled them to secure life's necessaries, now to them the
sweetest luxuries.

This experience is sufficiently heartrending, but is, if
possible, surpassed by those who, as the transports glided
down the bay, gazed their last on their native lands as the
flames shot upwards through the dense clouds of smoke.
No fleet had ever borne on its decks such burthen of heart-
breakings, decks that were moistened with torrents of tears.
No desolation can be more dreary than the transition from
home to homelessness ; from loved land to one which at best
had no allurements, that could only be a place for wand-
ering and servitude ; from the cheers of the family fireside
to a bleak and dreary desert.

But grief will often exhaust itself and yield at last to
passion, or mingled together they find expression by turns.
Thus it was on one of these vessels, resulting in mutiny,
overpowering the guards, and running it ashore near St.
John's river, the escaped prisoners finding refuge in friendly
wigwams.

The fleet sped on its way, each vessel consigned by
orders to certain of the colonies along the Atlantic coast,
where their living freight was heartlessly set on shore,
among those whose language was not understood, and each
to the other odious by long hostility, and where the faith
of each was deemed by the other a heresy, a wicked and
unclean thing.

Imagination alone can follow their devious fortunes, as
history has not preserved its details, more than at the hands
of those so intensely disliked, they secured greater favors
and more real kindness than did the refugees at the hands

)leas-

yield

ena-

the

of their Canadian friends. But it was not possible to com-
fort them. Wherever they might find refuge among the
colonists unhappiness was still their portion. If they had
few wants they were keenly felt and could not be yielded ;
every tradition being a sacred thing to which their very souls
were attached as by hooks of steel. Their unrest, conse-
quently, never appeased, necessarily separated, they soon
scattered far and wide In well nigh aimless purpose, some in
after years working their way back to Digby and Mada-
waska. Others were sent from Virginia to England or
found refuge in the Norman land of their forefathers.

No legend tells us how or when a portion of these
strangely unfortunate people reached Louisiana. The long
stretch of inhospitable wilderness forbade a journey thither
by land, but it may be readily surmised that some kind
hearted Captain took them by sea to the then far away col-
ony, where they could once more hear in speech the music
of their native tongue.

Fancy will paint how memory of the harsh and for-
bidding clime they had left behind, thgether with their
suffering and poverty must have vanished from their
minds, as they slowly wended their way out of the tropical
Gulf into beautiful Berwick Bay, and thence into Bayou
Teche (Bio Tesh) extending northward two hundred miles,
to receive the silent flowing Atchafalaya (A-shafala). We
dwell with them on the scene. There is not a ripple on the
sleeping Bayou, a deep waterway from two to three hundred
feet wide, that, like a ribbon of silver, stretches far, far
away ; on the eastern shore, standing then as now, an un-
broken forest of cotton-wood and cypress, their lofly
branches interlacing, all draped and festooned with Spanish
moss as if in sorrow that the waters into which their shadows
fell, must pass away to return no more. On the western

Hii'

shore their eyes were greeted with charmiDg undulations,
where the live oak spread its branches and the palmetto
rose in pretentious dignity, where roses, magnolias, jessa-
mine, camelias and oleanders, of spontaneous growth,
loaded the air with intoxicating perfume, seeming to offer a
paradise where the rudest must long to linger and from
which the blest could scarce wish to wander. Far
up the stream, on the billowy lands, the exiles estab-
lished a colony, in which the gentle souled Evangeline
sought her lost lover; where the habits of their ances-
tors becoming firmly rooted, are still untarnished; where
the spinning wheel and loom are heard in the cabin
home, where the girls wear the Norman bonnet and petti-
coat, where the village cure is their guide and master, and
the church bells call to that form of devotion from which
they have never swerved.

The shameless work was done ; the expatriation made
as complete as it was possible to do, by resort to the most
frigid heartlessness and rugged violence. Nine thousand
persons had been made empoverished wanderers on the face
of the earth, and their vast wealth at the same time given
to the winds and the flames.

Families had necessarily been separated, never to be
reunited, save by such chance accident as could rarely
occur. Fancy alone can picture the joy ?f such unex-
pected meeting, and none could be more touching than the
story of the lovers kindly handed down to us by authentic
history.

They were to have wed on the very day on which the
male inhabitants of Grand Pre were made prisoners. On
his way to the ship Jean stopped to kiss the kneeling,
weeping maiden and hurriedly said, ** Adelle, trust in God
and all will be well." On different vessels both were landed

in New York, and the maiden, with her mother, found a
home far up the Hudson, from which the former ttslb
carried away in an Indian raid and made the petted prisoner
of a chief in the deep forest recesses of the Mohawk
Valley.

In time Jean became a trader with the Indians, and, in
one of his long journeys, one day ** approached t'le wigwam
of the old chief, and, amid the forest shadows, saw a young
woman, with her back toward him, as she sat on a mat,
feathering arrows. On her head sat jauntily a French cap.
With this, her fair neck suggested her nativity. He
approached her gently — their eyes met. The maiden sprang
from the mat, and uttering a wild cry of joy and 'Jean,'
fell fainting in his arms.''

Poetry and romance have vied with history in por-
trayal of the pitiable experience of this people, who left
France with hope of bettering their lives in the rugged wil-
derness of a far away and unknown land.

Strangely enough its history presents the elements of
romance, and poetry and story can scarce reach beyond the
real limits of cheerless history.

A rugged land, an unostentatious people, ever on the
rack of misfortune, but never swerving from the habits and
faith of their fathers, Acadia has been made by the poet's
magic pen the land of Evangeline, and she, the pure souled,
the patient, ever loving and ever faithful, the representa-
tive of her people, whose cup was always well-nigh filled
with bitterness, but who, like her :

" Meekly bowed their heads, and murmured,
Father, I thank Thee."

THE END.

fife*

ff-

COSTUMES OF THE ACADIANS.

If:

BANISHMENT

AND

REMOVAL OF THE ACADl ANS

-BY-

Madame MOREL DE LA DURANTAYE.

\?'i

Banishment and Removal of tlie Acadians.

In 1740, difficulties between France and England, in
consequence of court-intrigues, kindled a needless war
which terminated in the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. The
details of the treaty exhibited, on the part of the French
ministers, such neglect and unpardonable ignorance that a
new war began very soon after, on the borders of Acadia.
The governor of Canada placed garrisons along the frontiers
and the peace heretofore enjoyed by the Acadians ceased
to exist.

In 1755, the envy which the prosperity and rich soil
of the colony had excited among the militia of New-Eng-
land brought on this infamous and cruel spoliation, an
eternal stain on the name and honor of England, which,
unfortunately, is without more than one parallel in the his-
tory Oi that nation. This iniquitous decision was carefully
concealed from the Acadians, in order not to provoke a
suspicion that might have proved dangerous. A proclama-
tion was issued calling on the people to assemble on the 5th
of September, 1755, in their different parishes to hear an
important communication from the governor. This deceit
was not everywhere successful. At Beau-Bassin, part of
what had remained of the French Acadian population took
at once to the woods. The people of Annapolis, accustomed
of old to seek, in the forests, a refuge against the cruelties
of war, did not wait for the completion of this horrible

\ '^ ,

Ills

catastrophe, therefore a certain number only fell into the
hands of their foes.

But in the district of Mines, which is the wealthiest in
Acadia, good care had been taken to secure the success of
the plot. This population, peaceful, industrious and not as
suspicious perhaps, responded in a body to the call of the
governor, and being secretly surrounded by soldiery, were
told they were prisoners of war, and their lands, tenements
and household goods forfeited to the crown, and that on the
10th of September, they were to embark for the British
Colonies.

This awful communication fell like a thunderbolt and
stunned the wretched families. Without arms, surrounded
by soldiers and crushed beneath calamity, the Acadians had
to bow to the atrocious law of a triumphant foe ; and on
the 10th of September, the mournful expatriation took
place.

That date had been fixed upon as the day of departure ;
and a man of war was in waiting for them. At day break,
drums were resounding in the villages, and at eight o'clock
the ringing of the church bells told the sad and desolate
Frenchmen that the time had come for them to leave for-
v3ver their native land. Soldiers entered the houses and
turned away men, women and children into the market
place. Till then each family had remained together, and a
silent sadness prevailed; but when the drums beat to
embark; when the time had come to leave their native
home for ever, to part with mother, relatives, friends, with-
out hope of seeing them again, to follow strangers that
enemity, language, habits and especially religion had made
distasteful, crushed beneath the weight of their misery, the
exiles melted into tears and rushed into each others arms in
a long and last embrace. The drums were resounding

I i'

o the

sst in

BSS of
iotas
f the
were
aents
Q the
itish

incessantly and the crowd was pushed on toward the ships
anchored in the river. Two hundred and sixty young men
were ordered to embark on board the first vessel. This
they refused to do, declaring they would not leave their
parents but were willing to embark with their families.
Their request was immediately rejected, but they were
forced into subjection by the troops, who, with fixed
bayonets, advanced toward them, and those who tried to
resist were wounded, leaving no alternative, but to submit
to this horrible tyranny. The road leading from the church
to the shore was crowded with women and children, who^
on their knees, greeted them with tears and their blessings,
as they passed, bidding a sad adieu to husband or son, and
extending to them trembling hands, which they sometimes
could press in theirs, but which a brutal soldier compelled
soon to be released. The young men were followed by their
seniors, who passed through the same scene of sorrow and
distress. In this manner were the whole male population
put on board of the five transports stationed in the river ;
each of these were guarded by six officers and eighty
privates. As soon as other vessels arrived, the women
and children were put aboard, and when at sea, the soldiers
would sing, unmindful of such dreary misfortune. The
tears of these poor wretched people excited their cruelty
and even they had a good deal to suflfer at the hands of the
officers.

Kevenge, mean cruelty, implacable cupidity, and
every contemptible passion concurs to increase the infamy
of this odious removal and brand it as one of the most
shameful pages of English history.

For several consecutive evenings, the cattle would
congregate around the smoking ruins of the homes, as
if expecting the return of their owners, while the

I'll

I M

5'n'i

faithful watchdogs were howling on the deserted hearths.

According to the Revue des Deux Mondes of 18S1, the
number of prisoners thus removed in the district of Mines
amounted to 4,000, and it may be said that the. whole
French population had been banished, as very few could
escape.

From the following statement may be obtained an
idea of the wealth of that country. Four thousand houses
and five thousand stables were burned; twelve thousand
oxen, three thousand cows, five thousand calves, six thous-
and horses, twelve thousand sheep and eight hundred pigs
were taken possession of.

The American colonists, who had long since provoked
the measures, obtained a grant of the land, and of course
the numerous herds were not without profit to some one ;
so, nothing had been neglected to succeed in that carton,
which was the wealthiest of all.

How did Ciese poor people live in the forests and
wilderness? through what succession of dangers and suffer-
ings did they pass in the presence of speculators among
whom their lands were divided ? This we do not know.
But we are aware that they felt the pangs of hunger and
cold and defended their lives against wild beasts.

At the present time we find a small parish of Acadian
origin, growing on the ruins of their country, in the midst
of British invaders. The population are French Acadians
and Catholics in every principle and remains as an un-
conquerable protest of justice. They are the inhabitants
who, escaping from British persecution, took refuge in the
woods, and later emigrated into several localities of St.

hi 1755, the French commanding ofiicer stationed
iiioiself at Beausejour with a small garrison of one hundred

and fifty men, where they watched the movements of the
English, who, later on, took the fort by a surprise. The
women and children were able to escape and hide away in
the woods ; who were soon after joined by the commander
with a few armed men. When they saw the flames
destroying their houses, the blood of the old Acadians
swelled in their veins, and they listened only to anger and
revenge. They sent their wives and children into the
woods and threw themselves suddenly on the enemies, who,
broken by the furious and unexpected attack, returned to
their ships, leaving forty-five of their comrades dead or
wounded. After this dreadful slaughter, the French
officer apportioned, to the best of his ability, the few
remaining families, sending some to the islands of the Gulf,
while others, loth to leave, began again to clear the woods
along the shores ; but the majority of those established on
the shores had to take refuge in Canada.

In 1757, there remained on the borders of the Gulf of
the St. Lawrence, but very few families, being unobserved
because of their small number and the remoteness of
English settlements. The usual poverty of an uninhab-
ited country made it anything but a desirable location.

As to the fate of the people dwelling along the river
of Annapolis, they threw themselves in the woods at the
first suspicion ; for they had for some time been accus-
tomed to such tactics; but this time, it was not a passing
storm after which they could return to their fields and
rebuild their wooden houses. The English levied on them
a lasting war. One portion of the people of Annapolis
were obliged to take refuge in forests and deserts, with the
savages, while others scattered along the shores, where, poor
and unnoticed, they earned their living as Acadian fisher-
men. There, for several years, they succeeded in conceal-

I' '■'''

14 i

li: '

ing their existence amid anxieties and privati'>ias, hiding
carefully their small canoea, not daring to till the land,
watching, with apprehension, any English sail, and divid-
ing with their friends, the Indians, the supplies due to
Ashing and hunting.

The woodland remains yet, but today, under its
shade, lives a race different in customs and language. It is
only on the dreary and misty shores of the Atlantic that
vegetate yet a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers came
back from exile to die in their native land. In their cabin,
the spinning wheel and the loom are yet in motion The
young girls still wear the Norman bonnet and petticoat,
and in the evening, setting near the fire, they repeat the
history of the Gospel, while in its rocky caverns, near by,
the ocean roars and answers in a disconsolate tune to the
groans of the forest.

Since then, like the passing of a terrible storm leaving
wreck and ruin in its track, the persecution subsided, the
Acadians made use of a kind of sufferance to establish
themselves openly on the shores that had been their refuge
for so many years. A few years after, they were joined in
these solitary and wretched parts of the country by a small
fraction of those transported by the English in 1755. Such
is the origin of the Acadian population in Canada, that has
given its name to the parish called Acadia, in the county
of St. John, a place made immortal by the beautiful
poem of Longfellow, and is known as the home of Evan-
geline.

A memorial of the Bishop of Quebec, dated October
30th, 1757, let us know their number, especially at Cape
Sable, where a Catholic Missionary comforted and sustained
them against English persecutions ; this missionary had been
called by them, and offered to defray his own expenses.

pla<

A certain number still remained scattered in different
places living miserably in the remotest cantons.

In 1763, permission was granted to Acadians that had
been transported into Massachusetts to establish themselves
on the south-west shore of their old country, near St.
Mary's Bay.

The township of Clare, Digby county, was at the time
a rough and jagged place, remote from all habitation and
accessible only by sea. The Acadians, who seem to possess
as an essential characteristic, a constant energy and indom-
itable perseverance, were ready to recommence the struggle
and work without loss of courage. They were not long in
putting their shoulder to the wheel when the said inherit-
ance, granted them by the compassion of their oppressors,
came back into their hands. Industrious, hard-workers,
they soon cleared the land, built fishing boats, and created
in this deserted country, a sufficient thrift. All the authors
are in accordance in their testimony as to the preservation
of the language, national character and vigilance to main-
tain old customs.

Mr. Halliburton, judge in Nova Scotia, has written
the following in 1829 : ** While Germans have a tendency
to disappear in the English population, the Acadians live
together as much as possible, keeping their religion, lan-
guage and peculiar customs. They never intermarry with
their protestant neighbors. Among themselves they speak
but French."

PART SECOND.

France has been, till the middle of the last century,
one of the greatest colonial powers in the world. The
moment seems propitious to present to the public the
researches we publish here. It is sad, indeed, in exhibiting

■4

the national character, to call back the painful end of
efforts which, at their beginning, raised so legitimate and
bright hopes ; but we must overcome the natural repulsion
generated by misfortune, and fix our minds on these sad
recollections of the past, to derive from our disasters, useful
information to guide and strengthen our conduct in the
future. We know that it is not without concern for us to
follow the French people, abandoned in our old possessions,
and to show what has become of their posterity, through
the difficulties and trials of a foreign domination. France
seems to have forgotten, that in the dark hours of her
history, important populations of her own blood, and in
spite of misfortune, faithful to their origin, were forsaken
by her. Who remembers Uhday Acadia, Canada, Louis-
iana or even Mauritius, though so recently lost ? Who has
any recollection of places illustrated by so many heroic
fights, and the devoted patriotism of their inhabitants ? It
is hard to awaken remembrances of our past glory, and to
point out that France has been the first to commence this
wonderful development of civilization in North America,
while losing, through her carelessness, the generous chil-
dren she did not know how to defend.

Courageous colonists, who with energetic perseverance,
have faced persecutions and abandonment, you have kept
everywhere, not only the tradition, but also the religion,
customs, language and love of your country. Has not the
time arrived to depart from that selfish indifierence with
which we rewarded their affection? Those to whom the
greatness and prospects of France are yet worthy of con-
sideration will understand that to call attention to the
national question is to attend to the future eventually laid
up for the French race.

ACADIAN RECOLLECTIONS

—BY—

Madame MOREL DE LA DURANTAYE.

ACADIAN RECOLLECTIONS.

The writer of this, being a descendant of the Acadian
exiles, ventures to offer a contribution to their sad history,
partly derived from records and partly from impressions
made by recitals of those among whom she was reared. It
is true that those who made the terrible journey through
the wilderness had been gathered by death before my birth,
but I well remember seeing and conversing with their
children, born after theix departure from their original
homes, some on board the vessels that carried them to the
English colonies, others in the forests during their wander,
ings in search of a place to rest.

Some of these people, then very old, had been nursed
by their mothers all through the long weary way, as in
terror they fled they knew not where.

The sorrowful stories were so burned into my young
heart, that in my after-journeyings through the provinces,
I have eagerly listened to repetitions by their descendants,
who tell, with touching pathos, the incidents handed down
in families, from generation to generation. The length of
time that has elapsed makes it impossible to now give pri-
mitive exactitude, and therefore this record must bear
somewhat the form of legends of my native village, where
my story begins.

Going backward more than a century, eastern Canada
was a trackless wilderness. It was 1755 or 1756 when a
few families were seen wending their way through it ; all
victims of the same misfortune, who, for some cause now

•

unknown, halted on the banks of the Montreal riyer, and
decided that they were now sufficiently hidden and might
venture to there establish a home.

It was a curious but not unnatural fancy, that the
exiles usually named any new place they might decide to
occupy, after some one that was dear to them in the land
from which they had been expelled.

This group had found a spot where they determined to
begin anew the struggle of life, to try once more what
unremitting toil might bring forth, and named it Little
Acadia— after their lost country. Thus began a little
colony, toward which other fugitives, as if by instinct,
worked their weary way. The scenes then occurring there
would soften the flintiest heart. The poor unfortunates
arrived, one after another, in straggling groups and wholly
destitute, seeming like parts of a wreck after a storm,
drifted by the winds to the same shore. Fathers, with
large families came, accompanied, perhaps, by some of
their neighbors. Often poor young girls lived through the
journey, while their aged parents died by the way from
hardship and starvation, finding their last rest in the gloomy
forest. Groups of these wanderers were often partly or
wholly lost in the wilderness to be seen no moroc The
survivors, filled with grief for those that had disappeared
by the way, and embittered toward those who had caused
their misery, could but recount the painful story and weep.
Occasionally an old mother, whose love for her children
was great enough to surmount every obstacle and bear with
all the hardships of the journey, would finally reach the
place that was to witness the last sacrifice of her life. In
her dying hour, she might be heard asking God to bless all
the poor exiles around her, and then, in a way so innocent
and pure that you would know they were the last wish of a

loving mother^s heart, hear her cry, my children, where are
they ? Alas ! God only knows, but if any of you ever
see them, tell them that their old mother died, blessed
them, and asking God to bless and protect them from the
tyranny of the English, and at last to forgive them.

In pain and poverty, sighs and tears, thus was Little
Acadia begun, and in the midst of these humble unfortun-
ates, in the fielcis close by a cottage, the erection of which
was just commenced, my father was born ; and in that
same little colony I first saw the light of day.

This constitutes but the means of insight into the multi-
tude of ofl-told experience, of trials and sufferings that had
seared the souls of the exiles, had prepared their soil for
the growth of the tares of hate, that to this day flourish in
luxuriance.

From it we naturally turn to the causes that so crushed
this people, as if beneath a heel shod with iron.

In the province now known as Nova Scotia, at an
early day lived a people whose land was known to them and
the world as Acadia. They were all French and lived in
distinct settlements, somewhat widely scattered. One of
these was known at the time as Port Royal, which was
captured by the English in 1710, and then named Annap-
olis, by which title that colony was ever afterward desig-
nated. It is to the people of tliis colony that this sketch is
chiefly devoted, as my aicestry were among those who
escaped from it, as well as many of those with whom I
spent my early years, and from whom I received the early
and lasting impressions.

Port R' « "l was the most valuable point owned by the
French in America. In 1711 all the Acadian Peninsula
suffered the fate of Port Royal. The French nbandoned it
by a treaty in 1714.

Acadia thus passed under the English cepter, and so
remained for nearly fifty years, when Nicholson, Governor
of the Province, issued an order compelling the inhabitants
to come before September 5th, 1755, and show submission
to the English crown by taking an oath, or forteit their
rights as English citizens. This they had before been
required to do under direction of Phillips, who then repre-
sented the English Government, and who granted them
the rights of citizens without being required to bear arms,
and permitting them freedom to worship as they chose, and
that this should be perpetual. The Acadians reminded
Governor Nicholson of the promise of Phillips and the
reserve he had granted in the oath required of them. They
also reminded him ol the cruelty of requiring them to fight
against their own people, man to man, but received in
answer that Phillips had been censured by the King for the
rash promises he had made, and that they must now sub-
mit to the King. There had been deceit in politics in order
to keep them there against their own will, and the result of
this hideous crime could have but one result.

The Acadians asked if in case they desired to leave
the country, they would be allowed to dispose of their
property. They were then informed that they could not
either sell their property or leave the country. They then
returned to their fireside, some in despair, others waiting in
hopes, but not one would swear allegiance to England and
raise his arm against France. Then began the tyranny of
the English administration; then those poor but heroic
people by stealth left their native home, carrying nothing
with them but their hatred for their persecutors. They
left one after another, men and women holding on their
arms their aged fathers and mothers. Their conversations
were held in low tones and ceased entirely on the threshold,

» -4

the head of the family first, then followed all the represen-
tatives of a third generation,' each with a load of some
kind. The procession started silently through the darkness
to the harbor, where lay the ship awaiting their embarca-
tion and transfer to the Canadian shore.

. They left, unnoticed by anyone, as they feared arousing
the authorities who were already on the alert. Arrived
upon the beach amidst darkness, and blinded with tears,
there was of course some confusion, people could be heard
in low voices calling one another, and sailors letting go
their lines, but soon all noise ceased. Occasionally you
would hear a few between their sobs bidding good-bye to
tltc^r country, never to return. The anguish was general,
eveii little babes woke from sleep and cried, as a cold
breaze would pass o\ er their face ; they knew it was not
their mother's caressing breath. The boat began to rock ;
they felt it was not the rocking of their cradle, and theirs
were the last cries borne back to Acadia.

Go now, you barbarous instrument of politics ; go and
distribute on other shores your mission of tyranny and
outrage. Hidden in the forests, on the beaches, and in the
midst of solitude are your victims. Do not flatter you -elf
with the hope that their voices are silenced forever ; tnat
their footsieps will never again return to their native soil ;
that their atiuies will never reach the ears of the civilized
world ; that Qud and the world will leave them eternally
without justice, and that you will continue your reign of
destruction without punishment. No ! the voice of these
children shall not be hushed ; it will outlive these courts
upheld by the tears and sufferings of a nation, rocked in
the crsi le of their misery and cries of anguish. Go, ye
tyrants ; Le calumny will fall upon your memory and fol-
low you to your tombs.

A MIDNIGHT POEM.

While writing at midnight with four in the room,

My brain as the morning dawned weighing;
With thoughts of the little one now left alone,

And their grief my mind was portraying—
Bereft to-night of their kind father

Sorrow comes to young and old ;
I was thinking of the daylight

And the news which must be told,
When with daylight they'd awaken

And with one accord all rush
For the first fond kiss from papa,

And I— how sad— their hearts must »?rush!

Yes, to his eternal rest he is gone fov jr,

From the ones who loved him well,
Who will forget him never—

Shall we ever meet again?
Yes, the splendor will be greater,

For when we meet, 'twill be above
And there see our Creator!

We can no longer watch and mourn
For him— the loved one.

Whose life on earth to us was but a charm,
We can but hope that his soul will be

As welcome in heaven.
As the parting was sad for me.

When we four will have passed away
Will some one remember us,

And will the remembrance be as sad
' As the one who has gone to-day.

Will we be remembered
By friends once near and dear;

Or will we be forgotten.
As though we never had been here.

Memory, sad memory,
With aching heart so sore

Comes sorrowing and sorrowing
Alike to rich and poor;

Though his image I will always keep.
Defy years to efface;

'Twill keep my pathway clear and bright
And in heaven I may also find

The true and only light

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